Blackbird
by kthehuman
Summary: AU- Dean is a Hunter of the Assembly, an organization that captures the monsters that call themselves Angels. Castiel has just been brought to the camp that Dean is located at, and is the first Angel with black wings ever seen by the Assembly. This is my first fanfic, so it may be slow-going at first.
1. Chapter 1

Dean had his eye trained on the back doors of the dingy green truck, sweat forming on his sun-kissed brow in the dry summer heat. On cue from the Captain, two of the men went forward to open the doors. They were wrapped from head to toe in thick black cloth, marking them as one of the newest pairs of Initiates added to the Assembly. Dean tightened his grip on his Karynth, a foot-and-a-half-long straight, silver blade that was reserved for the Hunters of the Assembly, as the Initiates pulled at the seven locks that held the doors closed. The Initiates pulled the doors back quickly, retreating from the things inside.

Seconds passed with no movement from the truck. Then a woman shuffled to the front, where the light exposed most of her from. Her pale skin was covered with dirt and dust that had been thrown up by the truck's fast travel. She had a long burst of bright red hair, and her eyes were darting around, cautious of the group of men before her. She rolled her shoulders back as best she could, this movement being limited by the shackles around her wrists. She leapt gracefully down to the dirt road, eliciting a small puff of protest from the ground. This movement exposed her for the monster she was, bringing to light a pair of white-blonde wings that protruded from the space between her shoulder blades, restricted by a band that connected to her waist and shackles.

Dean's brow furrowed, his upper lip crawling ever so slowly toward his nose. A Guardsman, garbed in the traditional golden cotton shirt and dark blue leather pants, grabbed her by the elbow and led her toward the cell block. Dean spit at the creature's feet as they passed to his right, and she fixed her hate-filled gaze on him for a long moment before returning her gaze toward their destination. There was a louder noise of boots landing on dirt, a small chorus of gasps and whispers, and the sound of dust settling back onto the ground. Dean turned to see what could possibly surprise the assembly, and felt a shock that caused his eyebrows to rise and his mouth to pop open.

Standing in front of the truck was another creature. It was male, also with pale skin and shackles. He stood regally, head facing forward, shoulders back, and jaw set. He wore no shirt, as most male Angels, sporting only black lined pants and black combat boots. His hair was a ruffled mess, jet black, and shining underneath the light of the sun. His eyes were large, glassy orbs, piercing blue as bright as the glimmering waters of an oasis, and staring straight at Dean. Behind him, sprouting from his shoulder blades, were a set of wings that matched, and surpassed, the depth of color that his hair possessed. The feathers were glossy, and rimmed by the thinnest line of silver. It appeared he was trying to stretch them, for even restrained they were large enough to strike fear into the hearts of lesser men.

Luckily for Dean, he was no lesser man. He strode purposefully toward the thing when the other Guardsman faltered. Dean didn't blame the man; such an Angel had never been seen before, with wings blacker than the night sky. It didn't help that this one seemed to radiate a calm, deadly power. Again tightening the grip on his Karynth, he grabbed the black-winged creature roughly, just above the elbow, and started dragging him after the other Guardsman. On the way to the cell block, they past two sets of barracks, one on each side of the road, a mess hall, and an armory. It took several minutes to pass these buildings, and the black-winged creature stared at Dean the entire way. Only after they were nearing the block did it occur to him that he was marginally taller than the Angel. He assumed otherwise, as the Angel had kept pace with him easily. A pair of Initiates and a pair of Guardsmen stood at attention at the double-door entrance to the limestone building. The Initiates opened the doors to the block, granting the Hunter and his captive entrance.

The block consisted of ten-by-five-foot cells on each side, with a ten-foot wide hall between them, running down the length of the building. Each cell was separated by a limestone wall to discourage communication between the captives. Five cells lined each wall, each of them currently empty. The Hunter continued moving past each cell toward the Warden's office.

"It appears there are numerous empty holding spaces. Why do you continue to lead me when you could deposit me in any one of these?" an incredibly low, gravelly voice came from the black-winged Angel, causing Dean to jump and falter only slightly before casting a glance at the creature. It was still staring at him, emotionless and unblinking.

Dean cleared his throat before answering, "Gotta get you filed with the Warden first. Make sure we can keep track of you."

"You are just going to kill me. I do not see the need to keep track of me after my execution," the response was matter-of-fact, and as emotionless as the face that spoke the words.

Dean cast another glance at him, lips thinning into a line and eyes narrowing, "We don't always kill you." This got just a flicker of emotion from the Angel, eyebrows raising just a fraction of an inch. They reached the door at the end of the building, black lettering labeling the office, "Warden." Dean stopped, but pushed the angel toward the wooden bench next to the door. "Sit. We have to wait for your Angel friend before we can go in," his gruff voice was laced with venom over the word "friend."

Again, the angel was stoic as he replied. "She is my sister," he said in his gravel-filled voice as his head cocked ever so slightly to the side.

At this, Dean noticed that his eyebrows rose yet again. "Yeah, well…whatever you want to call her. Just...stop talking." He was continually watching the Angels movements. Dean found himself thinking the motto of the Assembly;_ A free Angel is a dangerous Angel._ And this Angel had enough mobility to be considered free, even though he was restrained. He adjusted the grip on his Karynth out of habit.

The black-winged Angel looked over to the nearest cell, and spent several minutes contemplating the furnishings inside. The cells were equipped with a bed, toilet, and sink. They may be monsters, but the Assembly was a fairly civil place. He looked over the dingy toilet, then to the short, grey sink, finally settling on staring at the hay-filled mattress. The door opened suddenly, swinging inward. Dean kept his eyes on the creature, which turned suddenly to stare right back at him. The Guardsman still led the female, whose wrist shackles had been removed, and took her to the first cell on their left. Upon shoving her through the barred door and locking it behind her, he nodded curtly to the Hunter and left. The red-haired angel glared daggers into the Guardsman's back as he walked.

A gruff voice called through the open door, "Well are you gonna stand there all day, or are you bring him in, ya idjit?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who followed and reviewed the first chapter of the story! I'm sorry this one took so long, but my muse just refused to let me write anything half-decent. However, it is here now, and I plan to have the next chapter finished shortly. Enjoy! :]

* * *

Chapter 2

The dark-winged Angel continued to stare at Dean. "Well? You heard him," he jerked his head to the side, indicating that the Angel should move. "Get in there."

The Angel narrowed his eyes at the man, and stood slowly. He turned and walked to the doorway, eyes glancing quickly to take in any potential threats. The office he was walking into was cluttered, to say the least. There was a dark, oak table against the wall to the right, with scattered papers and small piles of books covering its surface. The wall directly ahead of him was lined with bookshelves of the some wood, and they appeared to be the most orderly area in the room. There was a missing book here and there, and all of the books appeared to be worn, but that was the extent of the disorder amongst the shelves.

The tip of the man's blade pressed into his back slightly, and he took the hint. Jaw clenching, he took a few steps into the room. There were no threats ahead of him, so he kept his head turned to the left. What he saw was a continuation of the chaos. The bookshelves continued all the way to and across the back wall. On the wall to the left, there was a large board of sorts. It was covered by a thick tarp, so he couldn't be sure of its purpose. About ten feet ahead of him was an L-shaped desk, with the long end against the wall to his left, ending several feet before the bookshelves. The desk itself was almost the same color as the other bits of furniture – maybe just a shade lighter. There was a large box sitting in the area where both sections meet. _Is that their computer? _he thought, smirking slightly. The rest of the desk was an assortment of papers; some of them in neat piles, but most scattered randomly about the desk. On the Angel's side of the desk was a short bench of a similar shade to the desk. Sitting behind the desk was an older man with a beard…and some sort of hat? He was sure the headpiece wasn't a standard part of the grey uniform he was wearing. _Humans have very a very odd sense of fashion; especially the Assembly._

The man stood and walked to the short end of the desk. "Well? C'mere so I can look at yer tags," he grumbled. He didn't look angry or scared, like many of the other humans. This made the angel wary, but he approached nonetheless. The Hunter entered behind them, closing the door and sitting at the table. "Don't get dodgy now. I'm just gonna read the tag on the restraints here." His tone was placating. Was he using this to get the Angel off his guard? _This man is curious,_ he thought, head tilting to one side. The older man, presumably the Warden, grabbed the middle section of the metal restraint, tilting it up so that he could read it easier. "Says here you didn't do anything other than cross the border into a human village," the man cast a curious glance at him. "Now whad'ja go and do that for, huh? And tell me your name, while you're at it," he went back to his chair and sat, gesturing to the bench on the opposite side of the desk. He had only just noticed, but it was not quite a bench. It had a short back; short enough to not cause discomfort to an Angel. Yet another odd thing about this man – offering an Angel this small comfort.

The angel sat in the proffered bench, leaning back comfortably. "Thank you. My name is Castiel."

The Warden's eyebrows shot up, "Well-mannered in the face of imprisonment?" He grunted, "Well, Castiel, you'll have to refer to me as Warden. Goes with the gig. Go on, then. What were you doing in a human town?" He was set to write whatever the Angel said, pencil in-hand.

The Angel sighed, "Does it matter? I was out of my homeland, and that is against the rules you have placed for us. I could tell you that I just wanted to see something new, maybe talk with someone. But you wouldn't believe me, would you, Warden?" The Angel's voice was cold as steel, his eyes boring into the Warden as he spoke, unmoving.

The Warden's pencil moved across the page, taking down the Angel's statement word for word. "Doesn't matter whether I believe you or not. I just ask the questions, son." He cleared his throat before moving on. "Now, tell me about your wings. Don't think I've ever seen an Angel with black wings before." He looked at Castiel with a curious expression; again, no trace of fear amongst his features.

"There is nothing special about my wing color. It is merely a rare genetic mutation," Castiel said in his monotone voice. The Warden wrote this down, as well.

"Well, that's good to know." The human was taking his word on faith? _That's new._ "And who is the Angel you were travelling with?"

Castiel thought that the human had already gone through this with Anna, and he must be checking their stories against one another. "She is my sister, Anna. Like I said, we just wanted to see something new. Obviously, we weren't thinking very clearly."

The Warden gave him a scrutinous look. Putting down his pencil, he asked, "Yeah, you said that. Also said you might want to talk to someone…anyone in particular you were looking for?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the insinuation. "No, Warden. I have only met humans that travel into my home in envoys – mostly with your Assembly. Any other envoys were of a religious nature, and were promptly turned away."

The Warden's steady gaze held for another minute before he relented. "Okay, then. You're all set. You'll be in the first cell on the right..." he said, letting the sentence trail off to a mumble as he got up and moved past the Angel to the door. "C'mon then, get up. You stay here for a minute," he directed at the Hunter. He left the door open, not waiting for the Angel to follow, with the Hunter standing by the table, blade still in hand. Castiel stood and followed the strange man, wary of the Hunter. By the time he was back in the cell block, the Warden had his cell door open and waiting for him. He obediently walked through, turning around just inside the door. The Warden closed and locked the cell door, and said in a hushed whisper, "Don't be too loud or disruptive. This cell is paradise compared to where they could throw you." Then the human gave him a curt nod, and walked back into his office.


End file.
